


Bracket Buster

by InsaneTrollLogic



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneTrollLogic/pseuds/InsaneTrollLogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Let's pretend on Earth 10, all the Flash ladies are six to eight inches taller. And play on a team that's made the NCAA college basketball tournament.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bracket Buster

**Author's Note:**

> I've done nothing but watch college basketball for the last two weeks. I APOLOGIZE FOR NOTHING.

Fifteenth seed.

And only in the NCAA tournament because they’d won their conference tournament. They were lucky they didn’t pull the sixteenth seed and draw the almost unbeatable UConn for their first round game. As it is, they’re expected to win. Upsets like this didn’t happen in women’s college basketball.

But no one actually knew what CCU could do. No one had really seen their team playing at full strength. If there was ever a season where everything went wrong, it was this one. The particle accelerator had exploded when they were playing an out of town tournament, but when they’d gotten home, their shooting guard Caitlin Snow’s fiancé was dead, their home gym was destroyed and Iris’s surrogate brother, their team manager, was in a coma after being hit by _lightning_.

And for the rest of December and most of January, CCU did nothing but lose.

February started well but then their power forward, Lisa Snart was suspended following what the newspaper described as an ‘assault’ that put Tony Woodward in the hospital. The assault had been protection, Lisa stepping in to break Tony’s wrist before it snuck past Iris’s skirt. It would have been worse than a ten game suspension if there hadn’t been so many witnesses. Tony was the star of the football team and after winning their bowl game, the school was eager to blame anyone but him. Linda Park was a solid replacement, but forcing her to play under the basket took her out of her comfort zone.

And Patty Spivot, the transfer who tore her ACL during her first practice of the season, hadn’t quite caught up to speed.

But March?

Iris felt good about March, felt even better when they stole the conference title right from under Keystone U’s nose. Her dad was back behind the bench, drawing up plays with his customary brusqueness, Cicso Ramon, the guy who’d replaced Barry as team manager didn’t seem quite so out of place.

And Felicity Smoak, all six foot seven of her seemed to have finally found a way to make her free throws after a few sessions with her boyfriend sharp shooting boyfriend.

They were a different team than they were in January. Lisa was off suspension, which let Linda move back to swing guard. Patty was back to full strength, the energy player they needed off the bench, her side to side speed finally recovering. That was why Coach West recruited her, her defensive quickness, her knack for getting a hand in the passing lane.

Iris could feel the team slotting into place around her. She’d been the only player to start every game this season and she could feel the difference from her position at the point. Early in the year no one had been used to each other, fast break passes bouncing off hands and scuttling out of bounds. Now, she barely had to look to know Caitlin had found her spot in the corner, sinking every jump shot with deft precision.

They’d played nearly a perfect game against the number two seed in the country.

And now, five seconds left, no time outs, they were still one point short.

Iris glanced to her father on the sidelines. He’d long ago shed his jacket, wiping a hand over his brow. He caught Iris’s eye and tapped his shoulder twice. Then he glanced toward the end of the bench, to the empty seat that Barry had occupied for the last three seasons.

Iris nodded, holding up both hands and curling them into fists.

This was Barry’s play. He’d drawn it up for Iris’s first AAU basketball team, a grin curling up his lips as he explained, _Good teams make their free throws at the end of the game, but that’s all they’re thinking about, making their free throws._

Lisa grinned from her spot on the block. Felicity tapped her chest twice. Caitlin swallowed, glancing over her shoulder to her pet spot on the baseline corner. Linda would be the release on the opposite corner.

 _Three passes,_ Barry whispered in Iris’s head, _ball doesn’t hit the ground._

The free throw hit the front rim and dropped through the net. Two points down.

Felicity grabbed the ball calmly and stepped out of bounds. Linda and Caitlin took off down opposite sides of the court, Iris moving to center.

Felicity inbounded to Lisa who tossed the ball to Iris at midcourt.

Three seconds.

Iris gave a quick ball-fake toward Linda, watching as the defense responded and then shot a bullet to Caitlin.

Two seconds.

Caitlin caught the pass clean, glanced at her feet to make sure she was behind the three point line, squared up and let it fly.

The ball hit the rim, bounced, kissed the backboard.

One second.

And dropped through the net as time expired.

Iris heard Cisco scream before the rest of the gym even reacted.

A second later Felicity and Lisa rocketed by her, wrapping Caitlin in a hug. Patty crashed into Iris’s back screaming with joy. She’d fouled out just twenty seconds before the end of the game after a half dozen steals on the night. Over Patty’s shoulder she saw Caitlin smiling like she hadn’t since Ronnie died. On the bench, her dad grabbed his jacket from the chair and swung it over his shoulder, his own grin more sedate, like he’d expected this win all along.

Iris untangled herself from her teammate and ran to her father, pulling her dad into a hug. “Barry would have loved that,” she said.

“Not half as much as you do,” he countered.

And he was right. Basketball’s always been Iris’s oasis. Barry went to every game, had a knack for designing plays, but he had one of the single worst shots Iris had ever witnessed. She didn’t think Barry had ever beaten her in a game of one-on-one.

And now, it was Iris’s senior year, her first NCAA tournament win, and one of the biggest upsets in women’s college basketball history. She wanted Barry here, didn’t want to think of him in a coma in Central City like so many others.

The rest of the team poured off the bench, melding into a mob scene at center court, smiles nearly blinding. “Only one thing left to do then,” Iris said.

“And what’s that?” her dad replied.

Iris squeezed his shoulders. “Keep winning.”

Maybe, if they got lucky, Barry would wake up for the next one.


End file.
